HOW WARWICK WAS PHOTOGRAPHED
IN COLOR
BY MAYNARD OWEN WILLIAMS
PERHAPS the finest view of Warwick
is free to all who pass. Across the
Avon, not far above an earlier struc
ture dominated by the towering walls, is
the "new" bridge, only 146 years old. And
from it, seen between and above the trees
which overhang Shakespeare's river, there
is a breath-taking view of the wide walls
and tall towers of Warwick.
But who, seeing such a sight and know
ing that visitors are privileged to roam the
halls which kings and queens have trod
since the days of Elizabeth, could resist the
appeal of this fortress, armory, treasure
house, art gallery, and home? So, with
hushed expectancy, we walked through a
rock corridor and approached old War
wick's inner gate.
Shrubs and trees mask the hardness of
this hundred-yard defile, easier to defend
than Thermopylae. There is no mistaking
the fact that here one must come as a
friend or not at all.
Farther on, the view widens to broad
flower beds and lawns, but an enemy would
- and many did-find this an inhospitable
spot. Two tall towers dominate the scene
and in them are loopholes so cunningly
planned that a bowman had but to sight
down one to hit a foe in the gallery below.
A loophole like that was almost like a gun
barrel, trained on an enemy who could
not but face its muzzle.
From Caesar's Tower, the defenders had
an added advantage (Color Plate I). The
solid rock on which it stands slopes out
ward at such an angle that no knight, even
with ground-gripping spikes on his armored
shoes, could scale its surface. But a stone
dropped from the parapet some forty
yards above could carom off the rock base
at right angles and plow through half a
dozen of the attacking force, putting un
wonted creases in armored pants and flat
tening out pouter-pigeon breastplates.
Guy's Tower, built a century before
Columbus discovered America, recalls the
tales of the redoubtable Guy of Warwick.
"Some Guy!" an American exclaimed on
being shown the hero's huge "punch bowl."
It holds 120 gallons and was really the
cooking-pot for the garrison. Today vines
with bright berries warm the old rock of
the tower, which still has the fine finish of
honest workmanship (Plate VI).
A stone arch has supplanted the old-time
drawbridge, but few would care to storm
the barbican, for behind the portcullis
(Plate III) there are holes from which
melted lead or blazing tar could be poured
on the heads of would-be invaders. Discon
certing it must have been to have one's best
suit of armor turned to a roasting pan in the
twinkling of an eye and the twist of a foe
man's wrist high up on the castle walls!
HIS HOME IS HIS CASTLE
Inside the gateway, this martial castle
becomes a peaceful country home, residence
of the present Earl of Warwick. A sleek
sports roadster stands before the door at
which knights in armor once dismounted
to clanging sounds like the Anvil Chorus.
Within the frowning walls stretches a smil
ing courtyard, turfed with the smooth sod
of Old England.
Once past the heavy palace door one
plunges deep into time. Armor gleams on
the walls of hall and passageway. Old mas
ters, sweeping aside the present, introduce
the days of white bosoms above voluminous
trains, and of ruffs and laces worn by men
with long hair-and a way with a sword.
In such a setting, one's everyday com
panions seem strange. A girl in shorts
seemed like a visitor from Mars. Enter
ing the chapel and standing before Peru
gino's painting of the Assumption, she cov
ered her head with a scarf, giving her
bobbed-haired modernity a touch of the
Old World, and achieving poignant dignity.
Our host had a genius for conjuring up a
living past amid Warwick's lasting relics.
As he talked, imagination peopled the great
hall and grounds with a noble company
reaching back to the days of Alfred the
Great. It was Alfred's heroic daughter,
Ethelfleda, who built the early fortifica
tions here to protect mid-England from the
Danes.
It is useless to describe the treasures of
Warwick. Here a picture is better than
thousands of words (Color Plates IV, V, and
VIII). In the state bedroom hang Brussels
tapestries woven before the Jamestown col
ony was founded. Since they were made the